


Insecure

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is insecure about his age while in a relationship with a younger Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insecure

**Author's Note:**

> written for the dragon age kink meme

Trevelyan nuzzles against him, rubbing her cheek against his stubble. He had meant to shave earlier but she had surprised him with a visit. He had worried she would find the feel of it irritating and unpleasant. He couldn’t have been more wrong.  
  
He smiles as she works herself over him, dusting his lips with light kisses and bumping their noses together. She smiles when he rubs his hands on her back and stretches beneath her. She kisses his nose and then his forehead, her fingers playing lightly in the curls above his temples.  
  
“Cullen,” she says, burying her face into the crook of his neck and kissing at his pulse. “Cullen.” It’s almost a whine. He recognizes the tone immediately, feels his stomach coiling with desire in response to her eagerness.  
  
“We just finished,” he argued good naturedly, pressing his face into her hair. “I need a few moments to rally myself.” She makes a playfully frustrated noise into his ear before running her tongue along the shell of it. Her breath on his skin gives him chills.  
  
“Mm,” she hums into his collarbone. Her attention moving quickly from place to place. He closes his eyes and let’s himself relish the feel of her laying atop him. Her skin smooth and sticky with sweat. Her body warm and nubile. Her touches delicate and teasing. “We didn’t just finish.” She sits up so that she’s straddling him by his hips. He lets his hands wander her thighs. Her fingertips run across his stomach, tracing lines across his muscles. She bends and licks his bellybutton. His hips jerk involuntarily and she giggles.  
  
“I’m not an eighteen year old anymore. I can’t just be ready to go every moment of the day.” He keeps his tone light even though their age difference is a bit of a sore spot for him. He doesn’t think about when they’re together really. He’s too busy thinking about how insanely happy she makes him. But his mind has a bad habit of turning things over and over especially when it has to do with his insecurities.  
  
“I’m not eighteen either,” she laughed, rolling off of him to lay by his side. She propped her head up on her elbow and let her free hand rest on his chest. “What were you like at eighteen?”  
  
“Unbelievably awkward,” he answers quickly. And when I was eighteen you were seven, his treacherous mind thinks. He finds himself being grateful that he was sent to Kirkwall and not Ostwick.  
  
“Were you going at every moment of the day?” She asks with a silly smirk. She rubs his chest a little. He shakes his head and laughs a little at his own expense.  
  
“Not even remotely.” She makes what sounds like a disappointed sound in her throat and lowers her head to his shoulder. He wriggles and arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. She throws a leg over his and with a little surprise he feels the warm wetness between her legs. She sighs, a content breath. “Were you?” He asks and immediately regrets the words that tumbled from his mouth. He doesn’t want to offend her.

“No,” she answers too quickly so he doesn’t have time to rescind the question. “That was a couple of years later,” she adds with a laugh. He wonders, vaguely, how long after she can possibly mean. There’s a short few between her then and her now. “Those were all other mages though,” she continues. She lifts her head from his shoulder and looks into his eyes warmly. “None of them were anything like you.” Her hand travels from his chest to his abs affectionately. He wonders if she had sensed his momentary discomfort or perhaps even knew how he sometimes obsesses about the fact that he was an old man in comparison to her.  
  
“You never slept with your Templar friend?” He decides in that moment that there’s something wrong with him. He wonders if he can blame the lyrium withdrawal for this series of ridiculously inappropriate questions. He can see the confusion in the way her eyebrows come together ever so slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—“  
  
“No, you can ask,” she cuts him off. “I did. Only the once. He missed a patrol and wouldn’t tell the Knight Commander where he had been so he wound up getting transferred shortly after.” She smiles and holds his cheek in her hand, rubbing her thumb beneath his eye. Her gaze is filled with warmth and care. He reaches up and places a bit of hair behind her ear, grinning when it simply falls back to where it had been.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he says about his questions, her story, his own insane insecurities that are ruining a perfectly good night. She lifts a shoulder in a gesture that isn’t quite a shrug.  
  
“It doesn’t matter, Cullen.” His name on her lips is electric. “Aside from the very casual similarities he wasn’t anything like you either.” She leans in and runs her nose against the line of his jaw. She plants a kiss on the underside of his chin and then pulls back once again to place hot, open kisses on her shoulders and chest. “No one I’ve been with has ever been half the man you are,” she mutters against ribs. She picks herself up and straddles him again. “Cowards and idiots and horny boys.” He hates to admit that the appeal to his vanity is working on easing his anxiety. She leans forward and kisses his lips, her tongue eagerly parting them. “Cullen,” she says and he’s ready to go again.


End file.
